The heart was full, the river in flood, the past came down in rain.
A boat had weathered the coldest winters, its mast came down in rain.
I am so burned, so burned am I, what do I tell you of my fires!
My skin turned into ashes and smoke, after my eyes came down in rain.
So what if the world has changed, so what if you live in that world,
So what if on an unfinished nest, the spring came down in rain?
Hands that lit the lantern of your shrine, were forgotten by its flame.
At the threshold of your crumbling door, their pleas came down in rain.
The letters we kept of the years, of salted folds and cracks inflamed:
When we opened them at last in silence, the ink came down in rain.
Qasim, in these times, wailing and screaming are forms of art.
You were bred on older regime, when patient mercy came down in rain.
Photograph Courtesy: Wal, Pixabay.
Arup K. Chatterjee 